A Nurse to Tame the Playboy by Maggie Kingsley

Author:Maggie Kingsley [Kingsley, Maggie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin

Chapter Five

Friday, 10:14 p.m.

‘OKAY, I want to know what happened, and I want it in words of one syllable,’ George Leslie declared, his normally amenable face tight and angry.

‘I’d be more than happy to give you an answer if I knew what you were talking about.’ Eli smiled as he rubbed down the windscreen of his ambulance, then tossed the chamois leather into the glove compartment.

‘Ms O’Brian.’

Eli’s smile disappeared in an instant. ‘What about her?’

‘Don’t play the innocent with me,’ his boss retorted. ‘Three more shifts—that’s all you had to keep a lid on your blasted temper for. Three shifts to be pleasant, and civil, but, no, you had to go and screw it up.’

‘She’s been complaining about me, has she?’ Eli observed, his face an unreadable mask, and George Leslie grimaced reluctantly.

‘She phoned me this afternoon to ask if she could be assigned to another ambulance because she felt she had upset you. Complete nonsense, of course,’ George continued with a pointed glare at Eli. ‘I know perfectly well if there was any upsetting going on you were at the root of it.’

‘She thinks she’s upset me?’ Eli said incredulously, and his boss nodded.

‘Frankly, I didn’t believe a word of it either, but—’

‘Who are you teaming her with?’ Eli interrupted, and George Leslie threw his hands up with irritation.

‘As I told Ms O’Brian, I can’t team her with anyone else unless I do some massive alterations of people’s shifts which will go down like a lead balloon with the other paramedics, and for three shifts it’s just not worth the hassle, so she’s stuck with you.’

‘I see.’

‘I don’t think you do,’ George Leslie observed. ‘Eli, I want whatever has caused this friction sorted. She seems a pleasant enough person, not at all like a normal number cruncher—’

‘She isn’t.’

‘—so can you please try not to rub her up the wrong way?’

‘George—’ Eli began, only to clamp his mouth shut.

The bay door had opened, and Brontë had stepped hesitantly onto the forecourt. George had seen her, too, and his eyebrows snapped down.

‘I don’t want to have this conversation with you again, Eli,’ he declared in a hissed undertone. ‘Understand?’

Eli didn’t as his boss walked away. He didn’t understand why Brontë hadn’t simply told George he was impossible to work with. He fervently wished she had as he watched her square her shoulders as though preparing for his next onslaught. He had said such terrible things to her at the end of their last shift, things which still made him feel guilty, and he didn’t want to feel guilty. He wanted his easy, uncomplicated, carefree life back again, not the woman who was so unsettling it.

‘Cold night again,’ Brontë declared hesitantly as she drew level with him. ‘Minus twelve, according to the forecast, and there must be about six inches of snow on the roads now.’

‘Yes,’ he replied.

Heavens, but she looked so tired. He could see dark shadows under her eyes as though she hadn’t slept well. He had slept badly, too,

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